All Change
by indigoamethyst
Summary: There's a new girl in Princeton, and she's changed their lives forever. But if they think it's all settled down well, the story certainly isn't over yet...[HousexCameron] [K to T]
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first **_**House**_** fanfiction, and feedback would be greatly appreciated. It's an idea that came to me randomly during the day, and please persevere to the end of this chapter (there's a twist there) and tell me if it's worth continuing.**

**I realise there is rather too much dialogue in this chapter but it's just while the story's getting going, k?**

**Disclaimer: Anyone/thing you might recognise is not mine. Unfortunately.**

**Note: This is my first time using Any errors with paragraphing, bolds, italics and underlines will be sorted out ASAP. Please just... put up with it until then.**

**Chapter 1**

_Just so you know, a week or so before this story began, Cameron's apartment was destroyed inexplicably. She is now staying in a hotel._

"Differential diagnosis, people!" said House, as he finished writing the symptoms with a flourish and chucked the pen over his shoulder. He scanned the room quickly, before asking; "Where's Cameron?"  
"Here," the young immunologist said from the doorway.  
"You're late," House told her pointedly.  
"I know," she replied, and sat down, looking at the board. "We should do an MRI and if that's inconclusive, a lumbar puncture."  
"You're right," House said distractedly, before saying curiously, "you're _never_ late." He shook his head. "Chase, Foreman, go do the MRI." The two male doctors left, and House addressed Cameron, "What's wrong?"  
"Traffic," Cameron said, heading to the sink.  
"Right," said House, "except for the bit where there isn't any traffic today, you answered back to me (which you're usually too weak to do)... and it looks as if you just won the crying championships for Princeton."  
"My sister, Ellie, died last night," she told him quietly, "and her teenage daughter is coming to live with me. I can't afford to keep her in the hotel, Chase and Foreman both have one bedroom apartments... and she looks so much like her mum..." she paused, before brightening. "You have a two-bedroom apartment!" she hinted hopefully.  
"She can come stay with me!" he exclaimed, before adding sarcastically. "Wait! I've just remembered that I'm _House_, so why the _hell_ do you expect me to take in some whiny thirteen-year-old?" "I could come too," she said, "and keep an eye on her."  
"Oh, even better!"  
"I'll do all your clinic hours and paperwork!" she told him. "Go on- it's only until I can find a new apartment that I can afford." "How long does the deal last?" he asked, wavering.  
"Three months."  
"Ten."  
She laughed out loud. "Five."  
"Nine."  
Considering, she said slowly... "Seven months." She put up a hand to stop him replying. "She's not like an average whiny girl. She's almost fourteen. She plays the piano to almost grade 7, and she would give you a run for your money on snarkiness. She has her own views about things and does not own a single chick-flick or trashy teenage book."  
"What are you, some kind of adoption agency? Seven months clinic duty and paperwork, and the two of you can stay for two months." Cameron smiled, and House added grumpily, still not quite believing what he had just done, "and it's only because you look so miserable."

--//++\--

House and Cameron had arranged that she should come round with the girl at about eight, and not to tell anyone in the hospital that they were living together.  
("We are not _living together_," House had said scathingly, "merely... residing in adjoining rooms.")

And so, at half past seven, after making no effort whatsoever to prepare for the visitors, House sat down at his piano with a piece of Handel and let the time pass by. Predictably, at eight o clock on the dot, he heard a sharp rap on the door.  
"Door's open," he called, turning his head to survey the sight.

The girl looked exactly her age, and was dressed casually in faded jeans, a white vest top and an open black shirt. She held a medium-sized holdall, a case that looked like it would carry a bass guitar and a smaller case, possibly holding a woodwind instrument, plus a tiny amp. She had Cameron's pale skin and wavy hair that fell to her shoulders, and striking eyes that seemed somehow familiar to him.

"I wouldn't go that far," she said to House.  
He was momentarily shocked that she had correctly identified his piece but kept his hands moving.  
"Arrival of the Queen of Sheba," she told a confused Cameron, as she put her bags down by the hall, before adding, to House, "but don't let me distract you from your B-flats."  
House was impressed. It looked like the next month or so would be fun. He could already see her up for a plot or two against Cameron. He stood up, leaning on his cane, and limped over to her.

"You must be Dr. House," she said. "I'm Carly. Carly Cameron. I'm going to be your parasite for a while," she added, offering her hand, then withdrew it as he just looked at it.  
"Drink?" he asked Cameron, heading over to the kitchen, and she nodded. Meanwhile, Carly walked over to the grand piano, admiring it and sat down.  
"I'm not in the mood for _Chopsticks_," said House snarkily, but she just threw him a withering look that could match his own and began playing a movement from the _Pathetique_ sonata impeccably, her own emotion put upon it.

And it clicked.  
He knew who she really was.  
And he turned to Cameron next to him, and said, "She's not your sister's daughter."  
She didn't reply, so he told her quietly, "She's yours."  
After a long pause, Cameron said, "It was the last night before Joe went into hospital. I didn't tell him..."

"Don't give me that crap," said House. "I'm not stupid; I can work out ages. You'd be almost 35" He paused and let out a deep breath. "You were sixteen, and angry. You headed out to the nearest bar, and everyone was too drunk to care how old you were really more. There was a guy there- an older guy- and you were flattered by the attention he was giving you. You didn't care that he was probably too drunk to know if you were a guy or a girl. And then you went back to his place and you lost your virginity to him. You knew you had to get home... you left quickly. But you paused at the door and you asked him his name. He said..."

They looked at each other, and whispered together, their looks confirming what they both already knew... "he said his name was Gregory."

_Chopsticks is a well-known piano piece, known for being one which most beginners learn._

**So here's the deal. I write the next chapter once I have two reviews, and not before. So go on. Tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Can I take a moment to say that I am positively OVERWHELMED by the reviews that I got overnight? It has inspired me to write another chapter. I'm afraid I haven't quite worked out the plotline, so it will be a lot of HousexCameron fluff for a bit. (though there's nothing wrong with that)**

The two adults stood, looking into each other's eyes as the piano music faded into something more sombre; House recognised it as the first movement from the Moonlight Sonata.  
"What are we going to do?" asked Cameron.  
"We'll manage something," he told her. He exhaled slowly, and said, "blimey, this changes everything." It was perhaps the first sincere statement she'd ever heard from him.  
"We can't tell her," Cameron said, "not yet."  
"We have to!"  
"You," said Cameron defiantly, "didn't know she existed until ten minutes ago. This one's mine, okay, House, it's one aspect of my life that I don't want you ruining. Heaven knows you've messed up most of my life already."  
"I'll just butt out of my _own apartment _then!"  
"You're a bastard, House, and if she wasn't half yours, I'd be gone already."  
"Kitten can bite, then?"  
"Piss off, House."

The piano playing stopped abruptly and Carly yawned widely, pushing her hair off her face. "I'm gonna head off to bed," she said, "it's like, midnight in England."  
"Okay," House said slowly, as if that explained everything. "Except for the bit where we're in America, I don't know if you've noticed..."  
"I only flew over this morning," she told him.  
"But you have... accent... wait, what?" It was the first time in many years that House had been lost for words.  
"Nah, I just picked that up this morning," she told him, and reverted back to her original English accent, which he correctly identified as Home Counties. "I lived near Guildford."  
"Say tomato," he instructed.  
"Tom_ah_to," she said, and looked bemused when he smiled. "What?"  
"Nothing." he said. "Spare bedroom's that door- you're on the sofa bed. Goodnight, Carly."  
"Night..." she said, and looked at him questioningly.  
"House," he told her. She couldn't change everything.  
"Goodnight, House."

She grabbed her holdall and headed into the bedroom, and Cameron turned to House with a great beaming smile on her face, and laughed out loud.  
"What?" he asked, childishly.  
"I just saw you," she stopped to giggle again, "_caring_."  
He made a grumpy face and she grabbed his arm, and said, seriously, "Thank you."  
He softened slightly. "This might work," he said.  
"I know."

--//++\--

At three o' clock, Carly woke up, expecting to see weak June sun streaming through the windows, before remembering she was in New Jersey. Realising she wasn't going to be able to sleep any longer, she pulled on an old jumper and headed out to the dining / sitting / piano room, and nearly dies of fright when she sees House standing there.  
"You're up early," he tells her, seemingly ignorant of the fact that he was up too.  
"It's eight in the real world," she tells him, stretching.  
"No, it's three in the real world."  
"You can't argue with GMT," she says, and they both stop sniping, and stand in amicable silence for a bit.

"I miss her, you know," Carly says, after a while. "It was just the two of us, in a flat in Guildford. And now I'm an _orphan_. God, I never thought this would happen."

A strange feeling is welling up in House; a fiery desire to take her in his arms and protect her from all the evil in the world. He decides he's had far too much Scotch, but this train of thought is interrupted by her speaking again.

"Why are you being nice to me?"  
"I-" House paused for thought. "I'm a very nice person?" he tried.  
"No, you're not, I have my sources," she said, and, catching his eye, added, "don't worry, not Aunt Allison."  
"What? Oh, Cameron," he replied. "Why would I worry?"

She gave him a look and shook her head, smiling, before walking over to Steve McQueen's cage. He made a mental note to find out exactly who she'd been talking to, before saying, snipingly, "he's not a hamster."  
"Gosh, you're right!" she'd said in mock surprise. "Is he a dog, then?"  
"You're so like your father," he'd told her, before realising what he'd said.  
"And how do you know him?"  
"He's talking to you now."

There was no going back then. So he'd told her, and Cameron had woke up, and (being Cameron) had asked her how she felt.

"It's okay..." she'd said. "It's like... I've lost a family, but I've gained another."  
"We're not a _family_," said Cameron nervously, catching House's eye.  
"But..." Carly seemed lost for words, "the way you look at each other..." She'd stopped to avoid trouble. "I'm going back to bed."

Adults, she decided, took a long time to realise the obvious.  
So it looked like they'd need a little nudge in the right direction.

--//++\--

In the end, as there were only two weeks left of the school year, Carly came to work with Cameron and House _("you'll learn more there than you ever will in Science," House had told her, after she'd confided she wanted to be a doctor too)_, dressed smartly, agreeing to say she was Cameron's long-lost daughter but, for the moment, keep her father's identity secret.

"Hello," she'd said, "I'm Cameron's daughter."  
"Doctor...Cameron?" Chase had asked, in utter confusion.  
"No, Cameron Diaz," she'd said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and House gave a small grin in pride.  
He'd blinked stupidly, and said, "You're English."  
"Thank you for pointing that out to me," she'd said sincerely, "I'd never have noticed."

House grinned, already plotting many, many tricks to play on Chase.  
And a few feet away, Carly was plotting something else...

**Two reviews, people, and I finish the next chapter.**

**I'm sorry I didn't get round to personally replying to the last reviews but I've been v. busy today and decided the next chapter took priority, I'm hoping to update once a day.**

**And this story will go on for as long as people want it and I can write it, by the way, it's not ending anytime soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Two reviews, people, and I finish the next chapter.**

**My SINCEREST apologies for the delay.**

**Feel free to throw pointy things at me. I forgot to mention the fact that I was going away . And then I got ill and spent a long time in bed feeling sorry for myself, and THEN I had just a general writer's block thing. However, I'm continuing with the story and thank you for your patience. Regular updates will now be occurring.**

**((And we get our first HousexCameron action... read on... ))**

A day at work had only confirmed Carly's suspicions. She wasn't stupid, and pretty soon she'd got a hold on the romance situations at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Her dislike for Chase had become quite prominent already, but she had taken a liking to Foreman- who was treating her like a sister.

The three of them had arrived home (House had left early, carefully planning the day to avoid suspicions) and Carly had flipped open her laptop. Cameron had allowed herself a small smile- seemed like her daughter had inherited at least one of her traits.

_Hello everybody_ [she wrote, clicking on a few select friends to add to her list

_I've arrived in Princeton, New Jersey and am now living with aunt._

_Except she's not my aunt..._

She paused, and quickly wrote down a brief summary of the situation. She'd had a whole day to think about it and just needed to get the wheels rolling on her plan- and she needed some help for ideas.

She then illustrated on the situation, and asked for some advice on what she could do to help them, and finally signed off with

_Yours,_

_jinx_

She signed it using the online alias that she'd chosen a couple of years back, and slammed shut her laptop, and wandered to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Checking the time, it was still about 2 (House and his team had been sent home early, having completed all possible work) and she still hadn't had lunch.

Ten minutes later, House limped to the kitchen, following the smell of red onions. He saw the teenager stirring a pot on the stove.

"What're you making?" he asked.

"Well, I really felt like a sandwich," she replied, as if that explained everything.

"Okay," he said, then stopped. "Wait, what?"

She turned to him. "Well, you've got cold beef and tomatoes but you can't have a cold beef and tomato sandwich without red onion chutney, right?"

"Cameron!" he yelled. The immunologist ran into the room and he addressed her. "Would you say you had an odd taste in sandwiches?" he asked her.

"Unusual..." she mused. "Hey, are you making some form of beef sandwich?" she asked her daughter as she spotted the mixture.

Women, thought House, really.

Evening rolled around and dinner came and went. The three of them packed away the dishes and cutlery, and Carly went into the bedroom briefly.

_jinx, _[the email read

_From what you wrote, I'm guessing the old favourite should do the trick._

_good luck, you deserve a bit of happiness,_

_H._

Carly wrote back a quick thanks and grabbed a DVD from her holdall.

"Anyone feel like a movie?" she asked as she emerged from the room, brandishing The Phantom of the Opera.

//--++--\\

"Always gets me, that," said Cameron, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye as the closing credits started. Carly stood up and walked over to the piano, propping upon the lid, and played the introduction to a song, looking expectantly at her parents.

"No. No way," said House.

"Go on," giggled Cameron, nudging him. He sighed as the two females' expressions were exactly the same and opened his mouth.

"_No more talk of darkness,_

_forget these wide-eyed fears..._

_I'm here, with you, beside you,_

_my words will warm and guide you," _he sang. His voice was low and gravelly and Cameron leant against his arm, feeling the words throughout his body as he spoke.

"_Say you'll share with me,_

_one love, one lifetime,_

_turn my head with talk of _

_summertime..." _she sang. Her voice was clear and sweet, and had obviously been trained from a young age. Gradually, as Carly racked her memory, wishing she'd brought out her sheet music, it approached the end.

"_Love me_," they sang together, "_that's all I ask of you..."_

"Unrealistic story," Cameron said, more to herself, as she began dragging her bedding back onto her sofa.

"Oh, I don't know," Carly said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Disfigured genius meets little _prodigee,_ trains her up and falls in love with her but she runs off, misguided, with a coworke----- handsome young man, unable to see her love for him... might happen more than you'd think. Night, all."

On that note (ha ha), she left for the spare bedroom, crossing her fingers fervently.

"That kid," said House, sinking onto the piano seat and massaging his thigh, "is something else." He looked up at Cameron, expecting to see a smile on her lips, but instead a tear was running down her cheek.

"I always thought I'd be for my child when I had her," she said softly but steadily. "Never thought she'd find out I was her mother at the age of thirteen..." She turned her head softly towards him, and whispered, "how did this happen, House?"

"It started," he said, shaking on the inside, some mysterious instinct guiding him, "something like this..."

And he stood up, bent his head and kissed her softly, feeling the warmth of her skin against his, letting her soft, soft hair fall through his hands, clutching her fragile body against him as though he could never bear to let it go...

//--++--\\

Carly was in for a shock the next morning. She woke up and headed for the kitchen, tying a thick dressing gown firmly around herself, only to arrive and find her mother half-draped against the fridge, giggling, her father kissing her neck.

"Morning," she'd said cheerily, and the two of them had jumped up like teenagers.  
"We were---"

"Don't worry," she'd said, with a flash of her eyebrow exactly the way House did, "we've done it in Biology."

**That's the end of that chapter.**

**Please review and tell me if you want more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, you lot, a VERY long but EQUALLY IMPORTANT Author's Note so please just bear with me for a few moments. Firstly, I'm off on holiday to America for a fortnight so unfortunately, I won't be updating for two weeks- however, I will write out some chapters by pen and paper ready for you.  
Secondly, I'd really like some more reviews :( I'm not saying I don't love writing this, but ultimately I write it for you guys, and if you don't tell me you like it, I'll think you hate it. And if you hate it, I'd rather you told me outright.  
Thirdly, somewhere along the line, with NO ACTION on my part and without me really noticing, this turned into a "No Reason" fic. Please don't ask me how this happened because I swear I am as clueless as you; House truly writes himself.  
I had a comment that perhaps the story was moving too fast; but once I get an idea, I can't rest until it's written and published. (Incidentally, I got strange looks on the train when I /had/ to make a notes of the line I'd thought of and ended up writing "I will personally sterilize you with a breadknife" with liquid eyeliner on a tissue.  
Also, just warning you, this chapter is longer than all the others.  
So, to conclude, I think I might slow down a bit in the future but not yet as I want to get this development down before holibobs, I'll see you in two weeks and I need reviews like House needs Vicodin!!!**

"House!" yelled the voice. "Get back here!"  
House grumbled as he slammed shut his Gameboy and limped over to where his girlfriend stood. "Yes, my love, my sweet, apple of my eye, light of my life et cetera and other such sickening phrases?"  
She swatted him playfully. "You forgot an important bit about laying the table."  
"What's that?" he asked, frowning.  
"Cutlery," she sighed. "Honestly, now I know where Carly gets her scattiness from..." She paused, stirring the sauce. "She's really like you, you know."  
Resisting the urge to reply 'what, attractive, clever and talented?', House instead replied fairly, grabbing some forks, "She's got your inner moral compass, you know. I don't know why she doesn't look like either of us, though..."  
"She spent all her time in England, hence the darker skin, and Cameron-hair gets darker in the sun, too..." Cameron paused for thought. "My eyes, your mouth, my nose, your ears, my insane thing for doing right, your sense of humour, my reading obsession, your music thing," she reeled off impressively.

House stared at her.

"So that's what you were thinking about in the differential today," he laughed. Cameron blushed; she had not been thinking so much about Carly as Carly being conceived. "It's quiet with her at music school. I'm almost glad she'll be back tomorrow."  
"Soon we'll have to start thinking about her real school," Cameron said, ladling out the pasta. "I'm sure she could get into any school here, wiht a bit of revision," she added, as she carried over the plates.  
"Takes after me there then," he smirked, as she hit him with a tea towel.

//--++--\

An hour later, comfortably snuggled on the sofa, the couple began to talk properly.

"Why'd you become a doctor?" he asked.  
"My doctor was a huge influence on me," she repled. "I had chronic atopic eczema to the age of fifteen, for a start. But she was always so nice to me. I guess I decided I wanted to help people like she did through my teenage years, when she helped me with embarrassing period stuff... what about you?"  
"Same," he deadpanned, and she let out a laugh. "Wasn't your mum there for you?" he frowned.  
Cameron's face darkened. "Her! I kept away from my family as much as possible. I went to boarding school through the year and stayed with friends through all the holidays; I'd see her on Christmas, New Year, my birthday, my sister's birthday and her birthday. And I'm glad that's all I saw her for!  
"What did your friends get up to all summer in your silky negligees?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows disgustingly.  
"If you ever look at me like that again, I will personally sterilize you with a bread knife"  
"Well, you'd get a lovely view. Ow!" he yelped as she punched him in the stomach. "You know, for being so skinny, you're damn strong."  
"And for being so mean, you're damn cuddly," she giggled, poking him in the stomach.  
"You wound me so."  
"You spent months making my love life awful!"  
"Can't help being handsome," he shrugged.  
She snorted. "It's just lucky for you that I like chubby, crippled, pale and pasty stubbly mean old men. Otherwise, I'd have married Chase a long time ago"  
"I think I'm a bad influence on you," he said admiringly. "I knew the annoyingly saint-like doctor thing was just a pretence." He paused, then added, "Chase is much too clingy for you, anyway."  
"Yeah, but he's an awesome kisser."  
"Thought you were too high to notice," he snarked, waspishly. She giggled in a very un-Cameronlike way, and told him, "you're adorable when you're jealous."  
"If you tell anybody I'm adorable, I will kill three rabbits in the lunch hall," he threatened, and she turned her head towards him, noticing his eyes were very, very blue. He looked at her deeply, and she nodded her head very slightly. He lowered his lips to hers, his harsh stubble grazing her cheek, and slipped his hands up the back of her top.

It was just then that Wilson lit himself in.

"Jimmy-boy!" greeted House cheerfully. "You have two options. Either you can help me explore how nice Cameron here looks out of her suit or you can leave right now. Now, I know you'd usually pick the first option but if you do, my cane wil be brought to you in a way that means you will never have children. What say you?"

Wilson turned a funny shade of purple and closed the door.

"Now, where were we?" Houes grinned, but Cameron shook her head "Moment's gone," she said (almost teasingly), "g'night."

House cursed Wilson to oblivion.

//--++--\

"Which one of you is Dr. House?"

Carly chose the wrong moment to walk into the office, cheerily saying that Wilson had given her a lift as camp had finished a day early when one of the leaders got very ill. The doctors grinned and waved at her; except House. Instinct ran in his blood, and he was feeling wary.  
"Stay away from my daughter," he warned the intruder.  
"Your---" Chase spluttered. "But... Cameron... you.."  
"You passed 8th grade biology, do the math," snapped House. "If you dare..."  
"Another House," drawled the man. "How unfortunate for her."

There was a crack and Carly fell to the floor, and another that made her scream an awful, piercing scream and grab her leg. In an instant, the intruder vanished. Foreman set off in pursuit, raising the alarm, Chase caught Cameron as her knees buckled and House dived to the teenagers side, turning her neck to reveal a large red stain. He swore loudly, then pulled off his tops and pressed them to the side of the wound, as Cameron sank to her knees. Carly's eyelids were fluttering gently.

"Knew you had a reputation," Carly croaked to House, "but I didn't..."  
"Sssh," Cameron told her, smoothing the hair out of her eyes and stepping back as the paramedics stretchered her away.

Chase looked on in horror as the normally calm, collected immunologist screamed at House, threw punches at him, scratched his bare chest with her fingernails and kicked him with all her might until all she could do was collapse onto him, sobbing, as Carly's blood spread across their clothes. How long they stood there, locked together, tears falling in torrents, neither of them knew.

And Chase felt his heart ache; how long he had longed for her to hold him like that, and soon he was crying too, both for the teenager who had teased him and ruffled his hair, and slowly grown to regard him as a brother too and for the pain in his chest, as he sat down heavily in his chair, and could only wonder how heavy the pain was in the couple's hearts. The two of them broke away slowly, and Cameron sank down next to Chase, who held her and wondered if he ever would again, and House leant his head against the sink cupboard and they waited.

Foreman returned; nobody had noticed him leave.  
"She's out of surgery, " he told them. "But she's in a come. She..."

House looked down at the blood on his hands and threw up.

**A/N: I'm not sure if I'm pleased with that or not, I think on the whole I am, but don't ask me where that came from, heh. Please. But I had to stop the fluff for a bit somewhere. I'll see you all in a fortnight with an update, and nothing'll inspire me more than a couple of reviews... -hinthint-**


	5. Chapter 5 Part A

**A/N: So I lied to you.  
Well, I didn't mean to, and so that I don't cruelly break your hearts, this isn't a full update; I wrote about a third of the chapter last night and thought I'd post it cos you guys are awesome. God knows why when I am leaving in less than three hours.  
This is dedicated to all my reviewers and the 23 people who put this on alert, I nearly screamed when I saw that.  
This time I will REALLY see y'all in a fortnight.  
So, without further ado... CHAPTER FIVE PART A.**

Cameron was gone in an instant to find out where the girl lay, and Foreman followed quickly, presumably keeping an eye on her. House stood, trying to regulate his breathing, the sick taste of bile in his mouth. Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands guiding him to the door, holding a bucket in front of him.

"Piss off, Chase," he groaned. "I'm not in the mood for Hospital Grand Tour. Or are you just trying to get brownie points from Cameron?"  
"You need to get cleaned up," the Australian said steadily, steering him towards the showers, down the corridors, ignoring the strange looks. "Come on."  
"Are you trying to ask me out?" House sighed. Chase lifted an eyebrow, and the older man added, "I'm a jerk to you; why're you doing this?"  
"Well, you could stop and consider the possibility that your daughter just nearly died and I'm worried... and you're a jerk to /everyone/," he added under his breath, directing him towards an empty cubicle, glad that House had stopped throwing up.  
"I don't think I can undress on my own, Doctor," simpered House, in a pretty good impression of their latest patient, who had taken a liking to Chase. Chase pulled a face- the patient in question was an 85-year-old man- and gave House a shove, puling the door to behind him and finally hauling himself onto a low set of lockers to wait.  
As he undressed, slinging the clean clothes he'd grabbed from his peg over the shower door, and grimacing at the blood staining his jeans, House called, "So what d'you think of Carly?"  
"She's a great kid," the blond replied honestly. "Spunky... different... pretty in a unique kinda way..."  
"Watch it," warned House, switching on the shower and sighing as the hot water ran over his torso.  
"House, she's /thirteen!"...  
"Exactly. You kissed a nine-year-old, imagine what"  
"Hey!" protested Chase. "That was different!" There was a silence, then he asked, "So what do you think of Cameron?" in a forcibly light voice.

House leaned back against the wall and sighed.

"I... I can't believe she's living with a grumpy old bastard like me. I could spend hours watching her sleep. I love the way her body fits around mine on the motorcycle. I love the look in her eyes when she's watching Carly, and the way she hits me with a tea towel. I could spend days watching her reading, curled up in her chair." He turned the water off. "I'm different with her. I don't think I could bear to have her move out." Noticing the silence as he grabbed his towel, he called out (grimacing at the /niceness/ of his words and concluding he was in shock), "What's wrong"  
"Nothing," came the reply, but the voice was shaking, House slipped on his clothes and pushd open the door, astonished at the sight of tears dripping down Chase's face. The young doctor sighed. "You love her," he said. "You bloody love her and there's no bloody way I can ever compete with that," he whispered. "I'm happy for you," he finished. House just looked at him. "No, I am," the Australian insisted. "You need some good in your life. I'll find someone."

And he was gone, leaving behind only a very confused House.

**A/N: guhhh... now I think I'll spend some of my holiday writing ChasexCarly fic. Is it normal to write fanfics for your own fanfic? Anyway, please review and I'll see you soon!**


	6. Chapter 5 Part B

**Well, America was great. Really good. Can see why House chooses to live there. Anyway, it didn't leave much time for writing but I did spend many jetlagged nights and showers awake thinking about this story. This has three main consequences; I missed out on a lot of sleep, I must have drained the hotel's hot water system, and – here's the clincher – **_**I know where this story is going!**_

**All I can say is that there are some story arcs which I am absolutely DYING to write. So there are definitely going to be much, much longer chapters from now on.**

**ADDED LATER: Blimey, this one got long. Well, they're all gonna be like this from now on. Do enjoy.**

**ADDED EVEN LATER: Oh, I just discovered the author reply button to reviews. –headdesk- Well, I'll reply personally to them from now on.**

**Y'know how it goes- review faster, I write faster, I publish faster, you read faster.**

God, she looked small.

Cameron closed her hand over her daughter's, noticing the difference in skin tone. Carly's dark skin looked as though it could be natural; but with House being pale and her alabaster skin tone combined, there was no way it could be. She wondered briefly if the girl's childhood had been spent climbing trees and playing cricket and rounders in the back garden. No; Carly despised organised sports. Well, racing around like a headless chicken. That seemed more likely.

Perhaps it's time to talk about Carly for a bit. Part of the reason she looked so small in the hospital bed was simply because she was small. She ate healthily but she was short and thin, and when she breathed in her ribs jutted out slightly. She gave off the impression that she hadn't quite grown into her body yet. She perhaps wasn't classically pretty- her hair tended to just sort of hang there and she'd yet to lose a tiny bit of the baby fat in her cheeks. There was a removable plate with a wire around her teeth, and Cameron noticed that she had the same eczema that she, herself, had suffered as a child.

She reached into her handbag for the small pot that she still carried around (force of habit) and rubbed some into the flaky skin, before screwing the lid on tightly. She reached into the drawer next to Carly's bed and slipped the necklace of battered silver beads on black string around the girl's neck and the silver ring of flowers entwined by vines onto her right thumb.

"Hello," she said nervously. "Erm. Well, I'm hoping that talking to you will make you wake up sooner. Please wake up. If you wake up soon you're gonna be okay. Well, you'll have to walk with a cane for two or three weeks but with physio that'll clear up soon enough. I feel very stupid sitting here talking to you. Or myself. Am I talking to myself?"

"First sign of madness," came a laughing voice from behind her. She turned to face Carly's father with the kind of expression that could make flowers wilt. He blanched slightly. "But if you're trying to wake her up, you're going about it the wrong way. You need to do something she can hear that she cares about."

"Go on then, Einstein," she said warily.

"Already have done," he said cheerily, waving at the glass walls. She turned to see Foreman and Chase lugging the piano around the corner. "It's amazing how much nicer people get when your daughter is hovering between life and death," he mused as Cameron hurried to hold the door open for the two doctors, who finally heaved the piano through the doors. "Thank you," he said pointedly, gesturing with his eyes towards the doors. They took the hint and left.

House sat down and drummed his fingers lightly on the lid, before lifting it and playing through the third movement of the Moonlight Sonata, a piece which he knew was her dearest wish to be able to play someday, followed quickly by the second movement of the Pathetique.

"Damn," he said aloud, "I really thought that would work." He played through a few classical pieces in quick succession, before darting to her bedside drawer, and pulling out an iPod, and quickly scrolling through favourite tunes. He struck up the beginning chords that she recognised as Boston, and started to sing along, quietly.

He moved through the 25 top played songs there; from Boston to Iris, from Stone Cold Crazy to Sausage Fingers, from Dani California to Paint It Black, surprised at how many of them he knew. When he reached the end of it, he cursed loudly and colourfully, and sank down into the chair, wedged comfortably next to Cameron.

"Tell me about Ellie," he said unexpectedly. "Talk to me. Tell me about your family."

"How long d'you have?" joked Cameron, before pausing for a while. "My oldest sibling was my brother, Daniel. He was the favourite of my mother. I don't really see him any more, and neither do the rest of us." Something in her tone seemed to suggest that these two facts were related. "I think he went into law."

"Never trust a lawyer," said House darkly.

"Damn right. He was nine when I was born, and Ellie and Cat were seven. They were twins, and looked exactly alike. Black straight hair, glasses, medium stature, pale skin. Cat died when she was ten, and I don't think Ellie ever quite recovered from that. Cat was buried in our back garden, and was buried by my other older brother, Matt. Mother didn't even attend the funeral," she added, her voice shaking precariously.

"And your dad?"

"Died when I was five. Matt was in between Ellie and Daniel; he was my favourite sibling. He used to smuggle us up food when... well, anyway, I also have another younger sister. Her name's Rachael. She's twenty-five, and she's always been a bit separated from the rest of us, because we were all a bit preoccupied with Carly when she was born. Carly was two years younger than me, and looked up to the rest of us. But she got cancer when I was sixteen, and it didn't get recognised in time... she died within a year. It was bad enough when Cat died, but two sister deaths?" House simply tightened his grip around her. "And Mother... well, she remarried. Harold Z'lami."

"Salami?" he sniggered.

"No, _Z'lami_."

"What?"

"_Z'lami!"_

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

"Z'LA---" Realising he was messing with her, she smacked him angrily on the arm. "She wants to meet you on the 24th. Word got back to her through Daniel that I was going out with someone. In fact," she added, her lip curling, "her actual words were 'I hear that someone has actually taken an interest in you. What a pleasant surprise. Anyway, you wanted to know about Ellie. She married a Cantonese guy- Liang, we called him. But he died about six months ago... We Camerons, we work hard. We play hard. We _love_ hard. But when we fall... we fall pretty damn hard too. I think she started dying when he did, really. Oh goodness, I can't believe you're meeting my _mother_..."

House tensed slightly. "Look, we'll deal with that when we got to it. I already have a mentally stored stock of sausage jokes. Can I greet her with 'Good evening, Mrs Chorizo? Please?" Cameron laughed and his eyes flickered back to Carly. "Why can't we wake her up?"

"But of course," Cameron breathed. She hurried over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, dropping a kiss on his ear, and awkwardly moved her hands over the piano. She noticed they didn't fit there like the rest of her family's did; didn't hold there naturally. But she found the note she wanted and played down the four notes. House gently moved her hands aside and began up the frantic drumming of Phantom of the Opera.

Carly's eyelids flickered.

"Sing!" hissed House.

"What?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not a Christine, I've never looked good in lacy stockings..."

"_House_!"

"Bloody hell," came a weak but faintly amused voice from the bed, throwing her arm over her face from the light. "Amazing what you get up to without me to keep an eye on things."

Cameron froze and House's arms collapsed onto the piano with a thump that made Carly wince, and sent Foreman and Chase running back, Wilson and Cuddy tagging along behind. Elated, Cameron threw herself at the nearest person to envelope them in a hug (who was, incidentally, Chase). "Thank you for bringing up the piano," she said into his shoulder, until her waist was met with a sharp poke of a cane.

"Join us for lunch," House said, unexpectedly, and Foreman could even have sworn (not that anyone would have believed him) that he'd been smiling.

"Don't," said Cameron quickly. "Come to our place for dinner," she amended, ignoring House's dramatic cut! and I'll kill you! miming behind the rest of them. "You all know where it is, right? Come round at seven. Bring someone. Or failing that, a bottle."

"Now look what you've done," moaned House.

//--++--\

Everyone was talking about the new lunch lady on desserts. Apparently she was a breath of fresh air, a free spirit kind of thing.

Funny nobody had mentioned how beautiful she was, mused Foreman as he sat down with his lunch. He had a horrible feeling he'd used a cheesy chat-up line with her, blushed to his ears and ran away. It certainly seemed that way from the way his heart was pounding as he chewed on his pudding absent-mindedly.

Then he began to choke on something that was definitely not chocolate cake, scrabbling for some water. Within seconds, a hand was slapping him on the back violently, until he managed to push the arm away and knock back some drink, swallowing the offending item.

"What _was_ that?" he spluttered.

"My phone number," came a voice. He turned round to see the woman he'd just been thinking about. "Honestly, most people notice a great wad of paper in their food. Something on your mind?" she asked, sliding down onto the seat next to him.

"You could say that," he groaned. Sticking out his hand, he added, "I'm Dr. Foreman."

"Caroline Rose," she replied, shaking it. "Though I usually go by Rose. Three guesses why," she added dryly.

He wouldn't need three. He usually fell for women with mocha-coloured skin and deep brown eyes; not thin, pale faces adorned with freckles and a head of loose red hair, vividly red but somehow not bright, just mellow.

"Free tonight?" he asked.

"Blimey, you don't waste time."

"Nah, got a dinner. Work thing. Well, not really, more my boss' daughter waking up thing but it's work people... hell, this is gonna take some explaning."

//--++--\

It had to be the longest wait of her life.

Cameron checked her watch.

Then paled, checked it again and hurried over to the counter.

And swore, very loudly, sinking down onto the toilet seat.

//--++--\

"Right," said Foreman in the car, to Rose, still slightly giddy, at half six. "First there's House." She gulped slightly; evidently she'd heard his name. "Yes, it's all true," he laughed. "Anyway, he has three fellows working for him. I'm the first. The second is called Dr. Cameron; she's been in love with him since she first set eyes on him. Anyway, about fourteen years ago, they slept together."

"They've been working together for _how long_?"

"No, this was before they knew each other, they were both pretty drunk. Anyway, she got pregnant but couldn't handle a baby - she was sixteen – so her sister took the baby. Anyway, the girl – Carly – was recently orphaned by her adopted parents and came over here, and the secret came out, and since then Cameron and House have got together."

"Right."

"The last fellow is called Dr. Chase. He's in love with Cameron. They slept together a few months ago when she possibly had HIV from a patient and was high on meth. Then there's Cuddy – Dean of Medicine – House makes inappropriate jokes about her all the time. The last person there is Wilson, possibly House's only friend. He's been married several times and god knows how he puts up with House."

"Well, you weren't exaggerating when you said it was complicated."

"Right," said Foreman, as he parked outside the flats, "better brace yourself."

**This was actually only half of this original chapter plan but then it ended up being double the size of the previous chapters, so...**

**Reviews are My Vicodin.**

**And I will personally reply to them all ;)**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews, yet again :). I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been preparing for my return to reality (aka school) which is coming later today, le sigh. Hopefully we won't get set too much work for a bit but I don't know how regular the updates will be from now on- I will try to get one done at least once a week, hopefully more frequently. Also, if any of you have a Livejournal, add me as the xarlster with an underscore between the and xarlster that my computer won't let me do - just leave a comment on any entry, I'll pick it up.**

**Oh, and I'm sorry the argument is so crappy, haha. I'm wonderfully bad at writing arguments. Could you just... plant an argument of your own imagination there please? The whole of this chapter is kind of a turning point, so if it's not great... well... it's not great. lmao.**

Chase and Foreman-plus-one arrived in pretty quick succession. Cameron greeted the first nicely; House greeted the second Housely.

"Hey, homie," he deadpanned, holding his fist out for Foreman to hit, then, after a barely recognisable pause in which his eyes flicked to Rose's hair, "hello there, Ginny."

"Evening, Yoda," she replied with a glance at his leg as she neatly sidestepped him into his apartment. House raised his eyebrows and said 'she's hot' in a deliberately loud stage whisper to Foreman before limping back to his seat at the piano, which Chase leaned on with a glass of Scotch, and Carly sat nearby, and resuming his rendition of the Moonlight Sonata, first movement, to the exact note.

"You can sure tell why it's called the Moonlight Sonata," mused Foreman.

"Not if you hear the third movement," said Carly, nudging House, who immediately ran into the fast fingerwork of the ascending patterns. Chase hid a smile at the way House obeyed her- it was such a rare sight.

"Sure you can tell," Rose put in, "'s full moon and you're running from a werewolf..."

This brought a few laughs and House was hard-pushed to hide his amusement, and was thankful when Cameron called for dinner. The four that had been gathered there left at once, and he finished off the section neatly, saying to himself, "werewolf..." and grinning, before grabbing his cane, popping a Vicodin and limping over to the table, where he was pleasantly surprised to see take-out pizza served neatly in slices on his best plates.

Pretty soon the alcohol came out, and a lot of secrets and stories with it- obviously not for Carly, being thirteen- and soon laughter resounded off the apartment walls and House was maybe enjoying himself a tiny bit. He'd had to sit out of the barn dance, however, and had been insanely jealous of Chase in his and Cameron's in their imitation of the tango. He was tired (not that he'd admit to not being able to sleep the past three nights with worry) and irritable and the alcohol was affecting his mind. Right now, he just wanted to see a pillow. His leg was killing him but he'd taken as much Vicodin as he safely could. He hated all the people in the room right now, just for being healthy.

"So there I was," Chase continued, slurring slightly, "completely naked, and blind drunk, and I said to him..."

"I knew it was the duck!" guessed Cameron correctly, breaking out into peals of laughter. "Oh, I wish I'd been there!"

"I bet you do," said House hardly, and the merriment stopped abruptly. "Bet you'd have loved frolicking in the snow with him."

"House!" said Cameron, surprised, hurt shining through her eyes through the haze. "Listen, you're tired," she added, putting a hand on his arm, but he wrenched it away. "Just take a---"

"Stop trying to fix me," he added darkly, and he saw the memory flicker behind Cameron's eyes. "You might have carried my child, you might have been pining over me like a sick puppy for years but that doesn't mean I'm in debt to you. Don't say anything. I'm sick of you telling me to go to bed, putting away the Scotch, clearing up behind me. I don't have to love you!" he added wildly.

A slap resounded across his cheeks. Surprisingly, it wasn't from Cameron.

"I am so sorry," said Carly to the stunned room, "but someone had to. Listen, maybe you should go. Please don't drive. No, really, you'd better leave," she added, wincing, as her parents started arguing anew. "I'll be fine, I'll just put in my headphones and go to sleep. Oh, Chase, you wanted to borrow the CD, here, catch. Nice meeting you, Rose," she added. "Look, if any neighbours complain on the way out, just tell them--- say there's an escaped lunatic or something," she improvised, bundling them out the door, and finishing darkly, "god knows it wouldn't be much of a stretch from the truth."

//--++--\

"Hello?" called Chase warily two days later, sticking his head round the apartment door. "I brought back the CD."

That was funny. It sounded like water.  
A lot of water.

//--++--\

House stumbled into the shower, ignoring the figure lying haphazardly on the couch, and was met by an intruiging sight.

Carly lay on the floor, in apres-shower attire, to say the least, a towel thrown hastily over her, which at least gave her some basic modesty. Her eyes were fluttering. But that wasn't what his eyes were drawn to. Chase was leaning over her, two hands on her chest and his mouth covering hers.

"Get away from her," House snarled. Chase didn't reply; didn't even look up.

"House---" Cameron had got up. Seemed she'd been awake after all. "House, stop it."

"Oh, so now you're just disagreeing with me, regardless of what happens to our daughter?"

"House, he's giving her the bloody kiss of life! If you just took a moment, you might notice that her neck wound has re-opened slightly, she seemed to drown in the bath, and Chase is saving her bloody life! Now if you want to be so helpful to her, go and call a bloody ambulance!"

There was really no answer to that.

//--++--\

"She'll be kept overnight, just to keep an eye on her," the kindly plump nurse told House as Carly lay in a deep sleep. No wonder- after being shot, in a coma, then drowning in the bath in under a week. Seemed like she was aiming to follow his medical history. "You're lucky young Chase was there to find her."

"All right, all right, get back to your bed baths," snapped House, sitting down in the chair and peering out of the (glass) wall. Foreman was telling Cameron some kind of story. Suddenly, her eyes flicked sideways to where House was, and he wished he could hear what they were saying.

_"House is watching," she said to Foreman quietly, pretending to carry on with their laughter from before. "I'm going to kiss you now. Not for you - I'm sorry - but because he's a bastard. Is that okay?"_

And she did, before patting him on the shoulder and grinning and walking off, her thick plait of hair swinging behind her, leaving Foreman trying desperately to regain composure (and, House noted with amusement, trying valiantly to explain the situation to Rose) and House pondering over what to do out loud.

"Two can play at that game," he said, a plan forming in her head, and Carly stirred, muttering, "oh, god."

//--++--\

"Jimmy boy!" said House, swinging into the office with surprising ease for a cripple, and giving his friend a big box of unopened chocolates. "I thought it was time I got you a present. For... you know... friendliness. Friendship! Because friendship is about giving each other things, isn't it?"

"What do you want?" the oncologist asked wearily.

"Well, I'm glad you mentioned it," said House, then added, darkly, "I need a partner in crime."

//--++--\

Cameron fell through the apartment door, laughing, as House leant back against the arm of the sofa, a bag from Victoria's Secret dangling freely from her arm, followed by a rather larger lump. Person. Whatever. She and House were still living together- telling the whole hospital it was for Carly's sake, although nobody was fooled by that, least of all Carly- and seemed to be involved in some kind of high school teen queen fight. House looked up from the remote, expecting to see Foreman.

However, the person she was dragging to the spare room was definitely blond and Australian.  
House grimaced.

"Oh, hey, House," Cameron said breezily, grabbing Chase's hand, but the Australian had frozen. Cameron looked more carefully. House wasn't so much leaning against the sofa as a very messy, very topless and extremely uncomfortable Wilson. Chase was hard-pushed to hide his laughter, in the end, as House burrowed his face into Wilson's neck, shaking with laughter, and the younger man awkwardly patted him on the back, he dashed into the spare bedroom and let out some explosive kind of noise, followed in quick succession by Cameron.

"I hate you," said Wilson darkly. "I wish you hadn't let me camp out last year. Then I wouldn't be in debt."

"Come on," said House, "did you see the look on their face. So worth all the rumours."

Carly sat at the kitchen table with a needle and old shirt, laughing to herself and occasionally chewing a fruit gum. Pretty soon she slipped the garment on. Sick of the two of her parents saying 'Carly, tell House to...' or 'Carly, will you tell Cameron that...', she'd taken an old shirt, sewn two pockets onto the back, one with CAMERON TO HOUSE written on and one with HOUSE TO CAMERON written on. The idea was that they could drop messages in and collect them with relative ease. Although greeted with sarcastic laughter, it worked pretty well over the next few days- except for the time when she accidentally wore it out.

//--++--\

Cameron- hope the wombat sex is worth it, if a little furry. House.  
House- please stop stealing my food. Have chosen to ignore obnoxious comment. Cameron.  
Cameron- well you didn't ignore it, you made a reference to it, therefore acknowledging its prescence. House.  
House- I didn't reply to it, anyhow. Cameron.  
Cameron- anyhow isn't a word, and to ignore it would mean to not make any mention of it. QED. House.  
House- you're a bastard. Cameron.  
Cameron- no shit, Sherlock. House.  
House- you're INFURIATING. leave me alone! Cameron.  
Cameron- surely a better tactic would be to stop replying if you wanted to be left alone. House. p.s. What's for dinner?  
House- Make your own. I'm going out for kangaroo sex. Cameron.  
Cameron- Well that's lovely, if a little too much information. Maybe I'll go over for some Wilson lovin'. House.  
House- oh, you're so mature. We all know you're not gay. Cameron.  
Cameron- I've said it before, the sneakers never lie. House. p.s. Any news on the patient's tests?  
House- I'm going to bed. ALONE. Cameron. p.s. It's not sarcoidosis.

**A/N: -is uneasy about chapter- Well, I kind of really have to get into school now, so review. Pleeeeeease. Erm, I know the scenes were pretty short in this chapter but I have BIG PLANS for the next three or four, so bear with me.**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know there's been a very, very long wait for this chapter. To say I didn't want to write it would be one great big whopper of a lie. I've been thinking about this story every day in frustration. I do know how long it's ben and how useless I am but I have a big excuse. It's not that I've lost my seven-chapter plan, which means I couldn't remember what was actually supposed to go here, and I think I may have dropped a couple of plotlines in my new plan... it's the giant one-way vortex of time that is Education. All my time goes there, I'm so sorry, but I'm getting into a really important year... And it's already pretty hard- if I told you how many essay's I'd written, you'd think I was lying.**

**I'd like to apologise for the absence of Carly. I love writing her so I don't know where she's got to. Maybe she's getting ready for school. Also I'd like to apologise for the thousand miles an hour speed at which this chapter goes. I'm terrible at story pace, I really am.**

**Reviews will make me write faster!  
**

"I did it," shrieked Carly with a volume quite disproportionate to her size. "I got in!" she clarified, brandishing a letter from the New London High School. The English education system at that school meant she could carry on with her work exactly where she left off with an exam timetable for her life that she was already familiar with.

"Well done," grinned Cameron, walking over to behind Carly to read the letter at the same time as House. They both moved behind her and then shuffled away so they were as far away from each other as they could be whilst still being able to lean over and read the letter.

"Really well done," amended House.

"Really really well done," snapped Cameron.

"Really really really well done," replied House grumpily.

"I'm not a steak," Carly laughed, and it was a few minutes more petty arguing before they got the joke. By that time, she'd walked away, and the two of them were left feeling rather foolish. Realising they had no need to talk to each other, they sat down again (as far away from each other as humanly possible) and House turned up the TV too loud and Cameron rustled her papers more than was strictly necessary.

If you'd suggested to anyone that Cameron move back out, you would have been laughed out of the hospital. The two were quite obviously still very much attracted to each other - some may even say to the point of love - and nobody had any doubt that this would cause a permanent rift. In fact, they weren't really sure why the argument was happening, but it was, and that was all the gossipy nurses needed to know. Occasionally they would get slipped a dollar bill in return for a "favour" from one of them- salt in the coffee, lock the exam room door from the outside... and this only got worse at home. She'd obviously learnt from Wilson (the traitor!) and had sawn his cane through. In return, he'd cut her pyjamas into what could barely be described as clothes. Later, he'd found all his underwear chopped up inside the drawer.

The infuriating thing was that he'd simply gone without.

//--++--\

"You called?" Wilson asked, poking his head round the Dean of Medicine's door. Not that she couldn't see him with the glass walls, but it seemed the polite thing to do. It was a nice change, having a polite doctor visiting her office.

"Oh... yes..." Cuddy seemed slightly distracted. "Come in and sit down." She waited until he did so before starting on her speech. "Not that it affects your work... well, unless you let it do... but anyway," she took a gasp of breath, "nursesrumouryouandhouse?"

Wilson only laughed.

"No, not really." She raised an eyebrow. "Honest. Let me tell you the whole story. I think you'll enjoy it."

_"Jimmy boy!" said House, swinging into the office with surprising ease for a cripple, and giving his friend a big box of unopened chocolates. "I thought it was time I got you a present. For... you know... friendliness. Friendship! Because friendship is about giving each other things, isn't it?"_

_"What do you want?" the oncologist asked wearily._

_"Well, I'm glad you mentioned it," said House, then added, darkly, "I need a partner in crime."_

_"House, I'm not abseiling down the outside of the hospital, putting anything down Cuddy's shirt, inventing sex games for you or poisoning everyone's lunch---"_

_"Would I ever?" House flashed his teeth in a blinding grin. "Okay, don't answer that. Listen, I need you to pose as my boyfriend to get back at Cameron for kissing Foreman. Now, don't answer yet, 'cos I know what you're gonna say." He paused, and then sung, "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that... but---"_

_"I was thinking more along the lines of You're A Crazy Idiot And I Think You Should Have A Restraining Order---"_

_"--I let you camp out on my couch last year," House continued, as if Wilson hadn't made any comment. "And you don't want to know how much those chocolates cost. Go on, Jimmy, it'll only be for a bit, nobody'll know..." He made some puppy dog eyes._

_"Only if you promise never to make your eyes go that big again. That's just plain scary." He sighed. "All right. God knows what I'm getting into now..."_

"... and then he grabbed the chocolates and left!" Wilson finished. He spun back round on the chair to face a shaking Cuddy. "Cuddy? Cuddy? Are you all right?" It soon became apparent that she was helpless with laughter. "Oh, not you as well, Cameron simply collapsed when I told her, I thought she was having a heart attack..."

"Traitor!" House strode into the office (as well as a man with a limp can stride). "Talking to the enemy?" He spat neatly into Cuddy's in tray, making the woman grimace. "Wilson, I'm hungry, buy me lunch." A well-placed hair grab and drag and a tissue mopping session later, it was as if the incident had never happened.

Especially the lingering look that Wilson had given her...

//--++--\

"I finish my shift at three," she said to him, "you'd better come and pick me up," as she'd ladled some soup of questionable flavour and colour into the little polystyrene cup. "I've had an awful day, House came for three lunches, each paid by a different person... Wilson, Cameron and the blond dimbo."

"Chase," Foreman supplied as he moved on. "Oh, I've missed you, Rose," he said as he moved on. "Life's so much more interesting with you around," he added to himself as he heard her get into a fiery argument with a midwife who'd whispered something about gingers to her friend. Checking she wasn't looking, he dumped his whole lunch in the bin. She didn't need to know he'd already eaten.

//--++--\

It was eight o' clock when Gregory House's life was changed for the second time in two months.

"I'm tired," Cameron had said, as they ate dinner silently from opposite ends of the bathroom, and Carly played the flute quietly behind a closed door.

"Go to bed then," House had said, privately wondering if those were really chopped bananas on top of her portion.

"Not like that. I'm tired of..." she spread her hands "...this. I'm tired of this fighting. We were stupid and drunk and... well, anyway, I am tired. Because... because I'm pregnant. With your child. Again. I must be some kind of crazy fertile field..."

"Samantha Meg," he said thoughtfully, as if she'd never been speaking, "or Alicia Jade."

"Alicia Jade," she'd replied. "But Ah-lee-see-a, not Ah-lee-sha. Wait... what? Why aren't you---"

"Either you were pregnant or you'd gone of food, got ill but also slightly bigger around the middle and buying pregnancy tests to, I dunno, eat or something. I was hoping you'd say Alicia Jade too. I think it's a girl. I can tell these sorts of things."

//--++--\

You weren't fourteen every day.

You definitely weren't fourteen in a new flat, in a different continent, after finding out your mum and dad are actually your aunt and uncle, and your parents had no idea they were your parents but lived together, and had got together and had now stopped having a childish bitchy war.

Still, birthdays were always nice. Even when the rousing chorus of Happy Birthday was made of two people and altogether rather painful. It must be a Cameron tradition, because she found the presents in exactly the same places as she had at home- one inside the cereal box, one next to the milk in the fridge and one tucked between the bowls.

A beautiful necklace, a black stone in a silver frame on a small silver chain.

Carly wore a necklace, one of battered silver beads on a black string that had been given to her by her mother on her ninth birthday. Maybe it was time to move on, leave her old life behind. Subtly as she fastened the clasp, she drew off the beads and (hesitantly) dropped it in the kitchen bin.

A stack of music, the books tied together about as wide as the cereal box itself. Beethoven's Allegretto in C Minor, Moonlight Sonata, Arrival of the Queen of Sheba (her own copy to annotate), a simple (as simple as they get, at least) Rach., Tchaikovsky's Autumn Song, at a first glance.

Three tickets to the show KA at Las Vegas.  
Tomorrow night.

Oh, this was gonna be great.

**A/N: Review, please, I wanna hit the big fifty :P. and regarding carly's birthday present, I'm a music whore :P and proud of it.**


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